


In the Eye of the Beholder

by PaperGirlInAPaperTown



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Again, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bunny gets a bit of an arc!, Family, Fan Art, Found Family, Gen, Horror, I promise this isn't all doom and gloom, Jack is still struggling with the notion of trust, Mystery, So much angst, Sometimes I write a redeemable Pitch, Supernatural Elements, TW for emotional and physical abuse, TW for gaslighting, The Author Regrets Nothing, The author focuses too much on lore, This is not one of those times, Tumblr Prompt, depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-17 13:09:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15462078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperGirlInAPaperTown/pseuds/PaperGirlInAPaperTown
Summary: After a prolonged, mysterious absence, Jack returns to the North Pole broken and bruised - much to the shock of the Guardians. Something has got him running scared, but they don't know what...or who. The only certainty is that Jack is far from okay. Why else would his hands be covered in blood?





	1. Flight of the Frost Sprite

**Author's Note:**

> This is a new "short" fic written for one of my followers over on tumblr. I post a series of prompts and people come back to me with characters/ships and the prompt of their choice. I guess that means I take (some) requests now?
> 
> **Warnings: Blood, violence, course language, gas-lighting.**
> 
> Disclaimer: Rise of the Guardians and The Guardians of Childhood are the intellectual property of William Joyce, Dreamworks and associates. I do not own anything associated with these works, except the original characters.
> 
> Beta: Sumi-Sprite

“So, let me get this straight… We have to stay holed up in this joint for three hours a fortnight while Frosty the Snowman pulls a Harry? Tell me how that adds up.”

North looked up from his clipboard as he finished scrawling his last few notes—the minutes of the meeting, as it were—to the Pooka in front of him. “You mean you would like to be excused also?” he queried. 

“No, I mean he’s a Guardian now. If he wants to be involved, he should bloody act like it. That means showing up for these shindigs,” Bunny argued, and then muttered under his breath, “no matter how much they bore you to tears.” He loped away across the Globe Room towards the generous table of refreshments, making a point to avoid the carrot sticks that (North would admit) were set out as a joke at his expense. 

“Bunny, you may leave whenever you wish, nobody is forcing you to be here. This is new initiative, and anyone who is free to come, comes. Jack, though he is young of heart, has many responsibilities—”

“One of which is keeping up with current affairs.” 

“Which I tell him. He will know everything we discuss here today. He has been very scarce these last…” North counted off on his fingers, “…I will say two months. But it is not so bad that he is away; I have messenger Yeti to find him. And besides, from what we know, everything is well. Pitch is still trapped underground, and the leftover Nightmares are being destroyed. There is no reason to call him away from his duties.”

“It not just that. It’s about rapport, it’s about filling in the cracks so our foundations as a team don’t…” Bunny faltered when he saw North’s impassive expression. “Whatever. What’s he doing that’s so important, then?” 

North shrugged. “He is seasonal sprite. He brings the winter. That is big job, especially in the north. It is taking up much of his time.” 

Bunny glanced at Sandy and Tooth, hoping they might be just as outraged to hear of Jack shirking the more mundane responsibilities of Guardianship. Neither seemed to mind. Tooth nodded, not sure what she was agreeing with since she was otherwise engaged in sending off her fairies, but certain that if North had said it, it was probably right. Sandy was more preoccupied with the free booze on offer. 

“I just think he should be putting in more of an effort,” said Bunny with a small sigh.

“And I think you should trust that he already is. Jack has a good heart, and that goodness is what makes him a Guard—”

A loud _crash_ came from down the dark corridor leading to the South wing. Startled, the Guardians looked up as several hefty figures making up North’s Yeti army rushed onto the scene. The Guardians themselves were quick to follow. The source of the commotion, they found, was a tall lampshade which had toppled to the ground, its bulb flickering a feeble light and bouncing restless shadows across the walls. Several objects were scattered on the floor around it; bottles of ointment, something that may have been a thermometer, and sticking plasters were just a few of the bizarre items. They had fallen out of a simple tin box. And in the middle of the crime scene, having failed to steal back out into the opaque, frozen tundra, stood a hoodie-clad boy, with a wooden shepherd’s crook at his feet. 

“Jack?” 

Tooth pushed her way through the small crowd to meet him, but lurched to a halt when he threw out an arm to ward her away.

“Stay back.”

“Jack, what are you doing here?” asked North.

Jack’s eyes darted between them. The uncertainty in his face wrenched North back to a time long ago, when he had been the formidable leader of a group of bold and impetuous Cossack bandits, the most audacious of whom attempted (and failed) to pilfer extra rations or shares of plundered loot. But Jack was no thief, and unlike North’s men from the old days, he did not usually give the impression that he moonlighted as an underground fighter. This made the resemblance all the more uncanny. His snow-white hair was a disheveled mess. Bruises purpled his ankles (and moon knew how many more were being concealed by his clothing). Bags under his eyes told of many a sleepless night. Then there was the look in his eyes themselves. North had only seen Jack this unnerved one other time: the night Sandy had lost his battle with the Nightmare King. 

“Jack…” Tooth gasped and clasped her hands over her mouth. Her eyes widened in horror. Smeared over Jack’s palms and caked under his fingernails was a matted, dark red substance. Bunny stood rigid with his nose in the air as the tinny, musty smell of raw iron hit his nostrils in a nauseating wave.

“Why’ve you got blood on your hands?” 

Jack glanced down and started, as though he had only just realised his porcelain skin was stained crimson. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, a tardy attempt to hide them from their disturbed eyes.

“It’s not what it—I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“Didn’t mean for _what_ to happen?” Tooth asked. She hovered over Jack, trying to pry his hands free until he ducked down and slipped by her. 

“Stop, Tooth. It’s fine. Just…don’t worry about it,” he said, collecting his staff and two rolls of bandaging gauze. By Jack’s stance, he was poised to run. But to where, North had not a clue. 

“Mate, you’ve got Buckley’s if you think we’re just gonna drop whatever the hell’s going on here,” said Bunny, drawing himself up off his haunches to his full, towering height. 

“It’s not your problem.” 

“Any problem of yours is a problem of the Guardians. So, unless you got something to hide, you better start talking.”

“I can’t,” said Jack, desperately this time. “If I do, he’ll…” Jack clamped his mouth shut. The Guardians looked to one another in alarm.

“Shostakovich…” North whispered, “what have you done?”

Jack met North with dim and weary eyes. A storm had dulled their bright, icy blue to a grim, cloudy grey. He dropped his head, and his shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. It was the only sign of remorse he showed before he regarded North with one last glance, and bolted. 

Twirling his staff in a deft blur, Jack shoved the throng aside, and left an icy sheen across the floor in his wake. Two Yetis attempted to grab him. They slipped and toppled to the cold, hard ground. Tooth raced after him, and Bunny followed on foot, but Jack was nimble and Jack was quick. He leaped from the mezzanine banister, then sprinted up the side of the Globe of Belief to its northern hemisphere, where he launched himself into the air. With the crowd watching in a stunned stupor below, Jack flew through the open skylight, out into the unforgiving arctic wind, and vanished from sight. Bunny only allowed himself a moment to hang his head in defeat before he rounded on North.

“You’re telling me the reason he hasn’t been here is ‘cause he’s too busy getting himself kicked in the guts?!”

“This is news to me also.”

“I thought you were keeping tabs on him!” 

North made an indignant growl, raising his fists as Bunny did the same. “I only know what he tells me!” 

“You’ve gotta be kidding. Oh, you dopey wingnut.”

“Bunny! Uncalled for,” Tooth interjected, making her descent while Sandy stepped between them to prevent the outbreak of a brawl. “And _you_ aren’t making any sense, North. You said you sent a messenger to find Jack each time you wanted to correspond. Wouldn’t they have told you if he looked like someone had used him as a punching bag? —Oh no, what if he’s chipped a tooth?”

North rubbed his brow, trying to dispel the beginnings of a headache as he shot a disgruntled look Bunny’s way. “They never mention anything like this. They say they always meet Jack in person.” He paused, thinking carefully over the detailed reports his Yetis relayed to him. How there had been nothing out of the ordinary… “Until two weeks ago.” 

North summoned the messenger tasked with finding Jack up to the Globe Room posthaste. The Yeti in question, who went by the name Dan, recounted in garbled grunts how Jack had not been the one to meet him at their last pre-determined rendezvous point—the northern border of Germany’s Black Forrest. Instead, Dan had been met by a small army. 

“What, like ten…soldiers? Who are these guys?” asked Bunny.

Dan shook his head, and reiterated ‘small’ by setting his thumb and forefinger about three inches apart. 

“They were fairies,” Tooth inferred, “not mine, obviously; Leaf Riders. Forest dwellers. I had heard they’ve taken a liking to Jack, but with bicuspids like that, what’s not to like?”

Bunny rolled his eyes in Tooth’s direction. “Did they say anything about why they were subbing in?” 

Dan grunted and shrugged. 

“Whatever the reason is, something…or somebody did this to him.” Tooth looked to North. “You don’t think-?”

“No way,” Bunny cut in. He was certain, and would have retained his conviction, had it not been for the paw that closed around one of his boomerangs. “He’s gone. And there ain’t no way he’s coming back.”

“He’s done it before,” Tooth reminded him. 

“And we made sure he wouldn’t do it again.” 

“If you don’t think he wouldn’t find a way, you don’t know him at all.”

Bunny’s eyes flashed, “Trust me,” he said, “I know exactly what he’s capable of. Or did you forget that yours isn’t the only mob he’s ever screwed over?” 

Tooth’s hard gaze softened as she glimpsed, for a flash of a second, the unimaginable anguish and horror Bunny had known in the loss of not just his family, but his people. They shared that pain. Just as they had shared the bittersweet, painstaking hardship of rebuilding their families somewhere new, piece by broken piece. She bit her lip in remorse. “Bunny, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine,” Bunny muttered stiffly, and waved a dismissive hand. “It’s not important. What we need to worry about is finding Jack. Right now.” 

“Da, but he could be anywhere and we must move quickly,” said North. “We will take the sleigh!”

“No, we’re gonna split up. Tooth, you stake out the Bennett’s house, see he’s not hiding out there like a wounded dingo. North, you’re gonna zip down to Antarctica. I’ll check back where he and Dan were supposed to meet up. Might also check the Warren and grab a few ointments while I’m there. Sandy…”

Sandy held up a finger and proceeded to show them where he would be taking his search. A little lake surrounded by pines formed out of his dreamsand.

“And if we don’t find him…” Tooth wrung her hands.

“Then we meet at the lake and go from there,” said North.

The Guardians agreed, and split no less than a minute later. 


	2. Search Party

Bunny emerged shivering and cold on the Black Forrest’s outskirts, where the city of Pforzheim gleamed like old gold in the winter light. Jack had been there; the landscape was rife with tell-tale lingerings of his frostbitten touch, from bone-bare trees, to a glittering snowfall. But there was no way of knowing how long ago his last visit might have been. For once the sprite left his mark, it was there to stay until his spring counterpart came to melt it away. 

Bunny raced west along the forest’s northern border, a grey streak on white as he tried to pick up the faintest scent. His efforts were as fruitless as the trees that rose on either side of his path. Just as he found a trace, the Wind carried it away. Like it didn’t want Jack to be found. 

_Screw that,_ Bunny thought as he skidded to a halt. _He’s coming home. One way or another._

With two sharp raps of his foot, the ground fell away. Bunny dove down the tunnel, and bolted at a break-neck speed towards home. He knew there was no chance Jack would resurface at the Warren of all places, but should Jack be found in a worse state than before, Bunny would need whatever healing remedies his arsenal could provide. 

He only hoped the other factions of his search party were having more luck. 

  


— O —

  


The portal opened, and North was hit by a wind so fierce it was made bearable only by the protective magic woven into the fabric of his thick, Siberian coat. After circling once in a wide arc, North had his reindeer descend closer to the surface of the Antarctic glacier. Like a bullet they flew, and it wasn’t long before he noticed an odd shape rising in the distance. He called to the reindeer, urging them towards it. 

When the sleigh landed on the almost-barren clifftop, it bumped and jostled in a rocky touchdown. Snow crunched under North’s boots as he disembarked and drew his sabers from their sheaths. 

The spire—a mass of black-tinged blue ice—had to be at least fifteen feet tall. It towered above him, a decidedly unnatural imposition on the landscape, and hummed with an energy that sent a shiver down his spine. This was Jack’s work, something born of his power. But the darkness within was someone else’s doing… North reached out his callused hand to touch the magic frozen for all eternity. In the second his skin connected with the glassy ice, his heart was pierced by an immense, inescapable, dark winter. He wrenched his hand away, breathing heavily. The spire was not as dead-cold as he anticipated.

Cold, certainly; but by no means dead. 

There was raw, electric power confined within this prison. A slumbering demon being kept at bay, not because of the will imposed on it by another, but because it felt no need to wake. Not yet. This was one thing North and his ancient nemesis could still agree upon: brute-force achieves nothing when the timing is wrong. 

North backed away from the spire with fear in his heart and foreboding in his belly. Moving quickly, he took up the reigns of his sleigh once again. At his bellowed command, the reindeer pulled him back into the sky, and through the snowglobe portal leading them to Burgess. 

  


— O —

  


A gale rattled the awnings of the Bennett house, and like the sensible boy he was, Jamie had elected to stay indoors that day. He was sprawled on the floor, reading the third installment of Rainbow Quest, while Sophie and their greyhound, Abby, gamboled in a game around the room. All was calm. Until Abby stood rigid, then nearly mowed Sophie down as she raced out the door. Having been rendered off balance by the dog’s sudden sprint, Sophie landed on her knees and threw out her palms to break her fall. The tears were almost immediate. Rolling his eyes, Jamie closed his book and went over to help his little sister pick herself up off the ground. But just before his head could turn in the direction of his window, Tooth ducked out of sight, and hovered just below the ledge. She exhaled with a puff of her cheeks.

Of all the children in Burgess, Jamie’s attention was not the one Tooth wanted to draw. He was a sweet boy, but perceptive. Almost to a fault. One look, and he would not only slow down her reconnaissance with a barrage of questions, he would know, instinctively, that something was wrong. And Tooth wasn’t confident she could hold herself together through such a gruelling interrogation. For although their search had been thorough, she and her fairies had found no sign of Jack. 

“I’m not panicking. I’m _not_ panicking. Everything is going to be fine…” Tooth muttered to herself. At that moment, an iridescent speck rounded the corner of the Bennett’s house, flying at a speed the rate of knots. 

“What is it? Did you find him?” Tooth asked as she gathered the flustered fairy in the cup of her hands.

_“No…dog…found me,”_ the fairy chittered through gasps. Tooth’s heart sank.

“Oh Jack, where are you?” she whispered, letting the Wind carry her question away as her gaze swept the town. Over the roofs of picket-fenced houses lay the dark green blanket of Burgess park’s tree tops; an ordinary landscape. Except for the bright burst of golden light that broke through the canopy. Tooth frowned, and rose to the Bennett’s roof to better see the disturbance.

“Wait a minute…is that…?”

Another flash had Tooth squint her eyes against the glare. But this time the light did not fade—not exactly. Golden beams splayed out through the trees, bathing the clouds above in an eerie yellowish glow. Then the light began to die. It flickered like a faulty bulb, until it disappeared altogether. It was like lightning. 

“That’s Sandy,” Tooth said to her disoriented little helper. The fairy let out a shrill peal of twitters, to which she responded, “No, I don’t think he’s alone out there either.” 


	3. Greeting an Old Friend

Sandy’s search had begun in the place he was convinced would end their manhunt: the shores of the Lake Burgess—where the Moon had pulled Jack from Death’s clutches into immortality. The water lapped in lazy ripples, its icy surface now restless and fluid at the will of the warmer seasons. Gone too, it seemed, was Jack. But then, Sandy had heard a disturbance in the distance. A crack. The boom of a cannon would have sounded less ominous, for cannons merely signify the beginning of a war. A clash of immortal forces heralds the end of the world. 

With the assistance of a pod of dream-dolphins, Sandy followed the noise as it sounded again. Along the way he noticed signs. Gashes gouged into tree-trunks, craters hacked out of the ground, and ice left by the touch of winter’s erratic hand evidenced a struggle. The cavalry quickened its pace. 

By the time Sandy reached the source of the noise, he was shivering, but not because the temperature had dropped by several degrees. He knew the clearing in which he stood, with its skeletal trees and gaunt-faced cliffs, just as he knew the noise that had summoned him. However, he also breathed a sigh of relief. For at the clearing’s centre was Jack. 

Scratches had been torn through his jumper and trousers. Angry, red abrasions carved lines across the skin of his back. Shaking and pitiful, he crouched on the ground, trying to summon his strength from the earth itself. Wasting no time, Sandy vanished the dolphins and rushed to Jack’s side. Jack flinched beneath the hand that touched his shoulder and sprawled back on the ground. His feet scrabbled at the undergrowth in a desperate attempt to flee, until he realised the face he confronted was the face of a friend.

“Sandy…” Jack rasped. His voice was shot, a sound of gargled glass and pure fatigue. “Sandy, you shouldn’t be here.” 

Sandy raised a finger to point at Jack, with a questioning arch to his brow. And you should be? that question was. 

“You don’t understand—”

Sandy raised a palm and interrupted. _Then help me understand,_ he signed.

Jack made no answer, or rather, he seemed unable. His chest heaved and his eyes fixed on something in the distance. Then he screwed them shut, curling in on himself as he begged, “Stop it, stop it, _stop it, STOP IT!”_ The wind howled in the trees around them, and Sandy could have sworn a jeering laughter resound in its wake. He placed his hand on Jack’s shoulder again, trying to steady him. 

**“Oh, Jack.”**

Sandy started at the sound of that voice. The voice of the sultriest lullaby and deadliest viper incarnate. The voice colder than the deepest reaches of space. The voice that embodied every morsel of terror the name ‘Pitch Black’ ought to incite…but when Sandy whipped around to face the monster himself, he was nowhere to be found. From fingers that curled into clenched fists, Sandy conjured two whips that snaked onto the ground. 

**“Did you call the Guardians to help you, Jack? Dear me, we must be in trouble.”**

“Get out,” Jack whispered.

A shudder ran down Sandy’s spine. His skin tingled at the nauseating sensation. So…he was hiding. Keeping his hands clean. The coward’s play. 

**“A coward, am I?”** purred the voice. **"We’ll see about that. I must say, the Sandman was a novel choice, Jack. I should thank you.”**

“Get out!”

**“All in good time.”**

The sky began to darken, and if the wind wasn’t frenzied before, it was building to a storm now. Through the trees, Sandy could spy movement, but he couldn’t quite discern its form. It lurked at the edges of his vision; played a little game of paranoia with his good sense. Slowly, the shadows of the trees began to stretch across the ground, poisoning everything the fingers of their branches touched in an inky darkness that rose in a broiling, turbulent, shapeless mass. 

**“First, I think we have a little catching up to do, old friend.”**

Sandy felt the blow before he realised it had come from the shapeless shadow itself. He staggered back, clutching a hand to his chest as the wind rushed out of his lungs. Jack looked to him, horrorstruck but unmoving. On his next laboured breath, Sandy flicked one of the whips in his hands out towards the darkness. At the same time it cracked, the whip produced a flood of light that pained the darkness enough to emit a tormented screech.

 _SHOW YOURSELF, PITCH, I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME,_ Sandy bellowed from a place inside his head. 

**“Indeed, I can. Yet, all this time you’ve pretended not to hear me.”**

Sandy gritted his teeth, but the arm poised to crack his whip slackened. What was Pitch talking about? What was there to pretend? The Boogeyman had been defeated and the whispers of fear had ceased.

**“You certainly wanted to believe that, didn’t you? After everything I put you through, it was your divine right to silence me forever. Well, you failed. So I sent out a call to remind you of what you thought you’d destroyed. How fortunate it was that Jack heard me instead. We’ve had so much to talk about.”**

A shadow struck at Jack from the ever-growing, ever-shifting void, morphing into razor-sharp claws that tore through the leg of his trousers. Four stripes of red bloomed across his calf. He cried out in agony. Enraged, Sandy struck at the darkness again but only succeeded in disgruntling it. 

**“You don’t see it, do you, Sandman? You don’t see what you Guardians have done to me. I have always been here. I was never truly gone. Now, with Jack’s blessing, I have the pleasure of ending you for good.”**

Mesmerising tendrils of shadow reached out and began to surround Sandy. A pool of tar rose to submerge him, to choke him, and his vision swam in an ink that blotted out warmth and light. It was inescapable. The darkness, the fear, that then engulfed him choked out every hope, every happiness that illuminated his life. He had once sworn never to give in to this kind of despair again. But here it was, Pitch’s own brand of poison seeping into his veins. What use was it to struggle? What chance had he against such an ancient evil, when he was but a man devoid of dreams?


	4. The Abyss Looks Back

Clashed chords and dissonant harmonies swelled in the song of pain that screamed through Jack’s nerves. He could not fight any longer. He could not stand. And Sandy…

“I told you what would happen.”

Jack’s entire body seized as the soft-spoken address met his ear. He looked over to Pitch, who was leaning against the trunk of a tree with his arms folded. A sadistic grin that could strike fear into even the bravest of hearts curved his mouth.

“I told you not to let them interfere.”

“Why are you doing this?” Jack gritted out. No matter the pain, he was determined to save face, but he could not suppress the wince that crumpled his face while his raw nerve-endings sizzled. Pitch began to saunter forth, a derisive tilt to his head.

“This is not my doing, Jack; this is yours. I made very clear what the consequences would be if you tried to have someone else clean up your mess. It was a simple request: keep the others out of the way. You failed to do even that, and so you gave me no other choice. How else will you learn?”

Jack’s gaze trailed over to Sandy, suppressing an involuntary retch as shadows crawled all over the little man’s prone body. “I still don’t understand. Why punish him for something I did?”

“That’s what happens when you become one of them,” Pitch spat, a sneer curling his lip. His spindly, grey finger unfurled to tilt up Jack’s chin until they were seeing eye-to-eye. “You and your actions are eternally bound to those…weirdos. When you chose to become a Guardian, you entered a centuries-long war and accepted all the pain and suffering you could have avoided if you hadn’t been so caught up in your own priggish superiority. Though, now that I’ve seen just how incompetent you are, I think I may have dodged a bullet.”

“Get off me.” Jack pushed Pitch’s hand away, unable to school his grimace of disgust. Wincing and hissing in pain all the while, he crawled over to where Sandy lay unmoving, nauseated by both the sight of the parasitic nightmares, and the burning sensations that flared from his wounds. Nevertheless, he took Sandy’s hand in his own. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he rasped, with tears falling and crystalising on his cheeks. Pitch’s cold, heartless cackle rang in his ears.

“The road to Hell is always paved with good intentions. You thought you could come and confront me on your own, a little solo mission to prove yourself to the Man in the Moon and his miscreants, but your brazenness and insolence had consequences. To think the Guardians put their trust in you— _again_. Didn’t I always say they were better off without you?”

An icy shard of anguish pierced Jack’s soul, a hurt that ran so deep it opened a chasm in his heart. He told himself Pitch was wrong. He had to be wrong. And yet the evidence of his eyes maintained the terrible truth; this was all his fault.

“Where is the Devil?!” thundered a voice from above. Jack lifted his head from where it was bowed over Sandy’s shallowly breathing chest, just in time to see North land his sleigh in the clearing. The Cossack stood at the reins with sabres drawn, but he had not come alone; a moment later, Tooth descended from the sky with a swarm of mini-fairies at her beck and call, and Bunny emerged from deep underground with an army of his own.

“North,” Jack gasped. “North, I’m sorry—”

“Where is Pitch?” North asked again as he dismounted the sleigh.

“He…he’s right there.” Jack pointed to where Pitch looked on with unflinching smugness.

“Where?”

“Right in front of you! Don’t you…” Mocking, sardonic laughter began to build in the background. His face fell as he was hit by a dizzying rush of panic. “Don’t you see?”

“My, my. This is interesting,” Pitch had the audacity to purr. With eyes widened in terror, Jack slowly turned to look at him.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“Jack, who are you talking to?” Tooth hissed, her rapiers at the ready. “What happened to Sandy?”

“You don’t see?” Jack asked, staring up at the three of them in disbelief. “You don’t…” The unanimous blank look they shared could have crushed him alone. They couldn’t see. Not the ghoulish nightmare creatures that were dimming what remained of Sandy’s spirit, and certainly not Pitch himself. To the alarm of everyone present, Sandy convulsed, but only Jack was privy to the horror that was the shadowy hand closing around his throat.

“Stop! Please just stop!” Jack pleaded. Pitch regarded him with cold, dead eyes and closed his fist. The sands of time quickened.

“What happened to him?” Bunny reiterated, racing to Sandy’s side.

“I just—he was only trying to help—I didn’t…”

Bunny’s mouth twisted in a frown, like he truly, desperately wanted to believe what Jack was about say. But the remorseful crease to his brow betrayed his wariness, and Jack knew he was beaten.

“It’s all my fault.” Jack bowed his head and pressed his fingers into his eyes. Yet even in blindness, all he could see was the pain on Sandy’s face and the devastation he had wrought. “If it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t be here right now.”

“You are right.”

Jack looked up to see North standing over the two of them. His foreboding figure caused Jack to shrink further into the ground.

“If it wasn’t for you, Sandy would not be here at all. He would not be alive.”

Déjà vu is a strange phenomenon. It strikes the unwary, often with little more than a moment of clarity that a second later disappears into obscurity. This was not quite the case for North, who found himself wrenched back to a day not so long ago, when the Guardians had nearly allowed distrust to be the death of them. Once, they had doubted Jack’s intentions; now they doubted his sanity. And perhaps…perhaps they weren’t wrong to be concerned. But perhaps they were wrong about _why_. When Jack had shown up on Easter morning with his tooth box in hand, they had condemned him without stopping to wonder what had driven him to betray them. They had not stopped to think how the Boogeyman may have been the puppeteer pulling his strings while unravelling him the whole time. Pitch wasn’t just tricky; he was a spider that spun a web of lies without ever getting trapped himself. And considering what he was capable of, North had every reason to suspect Pitch was playing a new game. One where he did not intend to play fair.

“Jack, whatever is going on here, I do not think it is your fault. It has never been your fault. You fight for what is right. You fight for justice. And we will always fight alongside you because we trust that you would never intend to harm any of us. We have faith in you.”

“That’s right,” Tooth agreed, carefully, having just caught on to North’s train of thought. “You saved Sandy once. You helped us bring him back. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Yeah…” Bunny nodded. “Yeah, you belong here with us. No matter what that sack of crap is tryin’a tell you.”

North grabbed Jack by his shoulders, lifting him to his feet. “Do you hear what we are saying? You are a Guardian. Remember your Center!”

It was like he had been woken from a nightmare of his own. The warmth that flowed through Jack’s veins at the resounding affirmation was enough to have him take up his staff in both bloodied hands. Pale blue electricity flowed from his fingers and engulfed the conduit. With a battle-cry of renewed strength, he sent a bolt of lightning towards Pitch. The sneer was wiped clean off his face as he was thrown back and slammed into the base of a tree. With a pained grunt, he collapsed in a heap. In turn, Jack’s assault drove the nightmares keeping Sandy under their cursed spell away. They released him with a flurry of hissing screeches.

“Wait, what were you aiming at?” Bunny asked, boomerangs still waiting to be thrown. Jack could not answer. Where Pitch had crumpled to the ground, a mass of rolling, pulsating, dark matter grew. It engulfed his cadaverous body until it became one with the void. From this new creature erupted a voice. One that sounded like it might have been Pitch’s vow of revenge, but which gradually degenerated to an incomprehensible scream of rage.

Sandy’s golden eyes flashed open, and suddenly the whip was back in his hand. Without even rising, he sent it flying in the direction of the simmering darkness, and a brilliant light exploded forth when it cracked. The darkness gave an unholy scream pained enough to wake the dead.

And then it was gone.

A strange, empty silence filled the clearing as coils of smoke lifted away on the Wind, which had softened to a light breeze. Jack breathed in the stillness, blinking through the glare of sunlight he had not thought to notice before. It was rejuvenation. It was peace, made all the more glorious because Sandy was awake.

“Sandy!” Jack dropped to his knees and threw his arms around the little man, not at all caring about the agony it brought upon on his knees. In no universe could pain compare to the elation he felt. Sandy gave Jack a somewhat puzzled pat on the back, and when he was released, unsteadily rose to his feet.

“All right Pitch,” Bunny called into the clearing. “We know you’re there. Get out here and fight, you bloody snake.”

Sandy shook his head, an unperturbed motion that rendered Bunny speechless. The boomerangs in his paws dropped to his sides.

“He’s gone now, isn’t he?” asked Tooth, making her cautious descent into the circle of five.

Sandy nodded, dusting his hands together. Little granules of dreamsand drifted to the ground. “I’m so confused,” Bunny muttered.

“You got rid of him,” said Jack. Sandy scrunched his face and tilted his head thoughtfully. Then he shook his head and pointed to Jack, who was still on his knees.

“Me? I don’t—what are you talking about—I didn’t…” The battle had only occurred minutes before, but already the events were becoming muddled in Jack’s mind. He kept seeing bright lights in yellow and blue. The face of Pitch floated before him, only to be eaten away by darkness over and over. “You really couldn’t see him?” Jack murmured, not quite aware he had asked the question.

“Nothing,” North replied. “Whatever Pitch was doing, it was not something meant for us.”

Jack turned to Sandy. “But you knew he was there. You saw him.”

Sandy shrugged and wavered his hand in an uncertain motion; yes, he had seen Pitch, but not all of him.

A small groan escaped Jack’s lips. One he couldn’t fight back. He clutched the hand that wasn’t holding his staff to his side. With his adrenaline wearing off, the throbbing waves of agony he had managed to ignore were returning in droves. He sank to his knees and bit the inside of his cheek, hissing his discomfort through his teeth.

“Jack?!” Tooth abandoned her place in the air and dropped to his side. Her eagle-eyes homed in on the fist he had clenched over his abdomen. And the rusty patch of red half-dried on his front. With shaking hands, she lifted the hem of his jumper to expose the grizzly wound beneath, bandaged by a mere novice.

“Crikey,’ Bunny gasped and reached for his pack.

Jack’s eyes began to flutter closed. He felt heavy. Between brief seconds of plunging into darkness, he watched snapshots of the others as they crowded close to him. He heard snippets of their frantic conversation but had since stopped trying to understand. There were arms around him. Lifting him. Cradling him to a broad chest, where it was warm and safe. That was all he felt before he succumbed to the siren song calling him away.


	5. At Long Last

Three days passed before Jack emerged. Bleary-eyed, groggy and in desperate need of something to rid the taste in his mouth, he opened the door of one of North’s guest rooms, expecting a slow and uninterrupted walk down to the kitchens. Instead, he was met by his four very anxious guardians.

“Sviridov! He wakes!”

“Oof!” The wind was knocked out of Jack by a rainbow tornado of feathers and wings.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” Tooth scolded him, hugging him with all the ferocity her pint-sized arms could muster. “Don’t you ever—”

“Oi, back off, you’re gonna strangle him.”

“Oh no.” Tooth snatched herself away, leaving Jack dazed and more than a little confused. He remained stock still as Tooth continued to fuss. “I’m so sorry—did I hurt you—are you okay?!”

“It’s fine,” Jack wheezed, “totally fine. Just let me…” He drew a long breath, wincing as his stiffened ribcage expanded. He exhaled. “I’m fine. What are you guys doing here?”

“We were so worried,” said Tooth.

“Yeah, you really know how to give us a turn there, mate.” Several medicinal-looking bottles clinked in Bunny’s paws as he adjusted his hold. With one paw free, he ruffled Jack’s hair.

“Are those for me?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, we can’t have you going septic on us, can we? Come on; back inside. I’ve got to change those bandages over again.”

Jack blinked in confusion and, upon examining himself, did a double-take when he saw the gauze wrapped around his torso. A job done by hands far more experienced than his own. The unpleasant implications suddenly dawned on him. “Again? Wait a second have you been…?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah, _you were_. Bloody hell…finding you in the nick of time was a real Bradbury moment, I tell you.”

A lump caught in Jack’s throat as he looked at each of them properly for the first time. North was standing with a tray of hearty beef stew and a plate of sugar cookies in hand, a merry smile twinkling in his eyes. Tooth retrieved her pile of blankets and pillows. Bunny seemed to have transformed into a full-time nurse. And Sandy bore nothing. However, Jack suspected he may have had something to do with his long, much-needed rest.

“You guys have been taking care of me this whole time?” he asked.

North’s booming chuckle died as soon as he saw the seriousness and bewilderment on Jack’s face. “…Of course, we have,” he said. “Why wouldn’t we?”

Jack wrapped his arms around his middle and glanced at the floor. “I don’t know. I never really thought about it like that. I don’t even know what to say.”

“Well, a ‘thank you’ should about do it. Now get back inside, you’re due for a checkup.”

Jack was ushered back into his room, where Bunny had no qualms over issuing orders like, “Sit still,” and “hold that there,” and “don’t scratch, ya drongo.” For the most part, the others stayed out of his way, though they were still eager to discuss the second coming of Pitch—and Jack was just as eager to debrief.

“I didn’t realise it was him at first. At first, it just felt like one of those bad days. Only, it kept happening every day. You know that feeling? And there were these intrusive thoughts which could be really morbid. I think that was what gave him away. It was like having a voice in my head that sounded like me, but it wasn’t—ow!”

“What’d I say about squirming?” Bunny interjected, throwing an antiseptic swab in the trash.

_“Sorry._ Anyway. When I worked it out, I went to confront him. He was waiting in the same place you found me, and I don’t know why, but for some reason, I knew he would be there. He said I couldn’t tell any of you he was back because if I did, he would do to all of you what he did to Sandy before. I didn’t know what to think. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing any of you again, especially if it was because of something I did, so for the last several weeks I’ve been trying to figure out how to get rid of him and that’s why I haven’t been around and—”

“Breathe,” Bunny ordered.

Jack inhaled and exhaled. And then he began to weep. “He—he came after me two weeks ago. I was sleeping in this cave in the Swiss Alps, and I had a dream…more like a nightmare. I don’t remember what happened. All I knew was that I was in pain. I was s—scared. When I woke up, that pain and fear d—didn’t go away. My lip was cut. A few hours later I had a black eye.” He paused, swallowing thickly. “The worst part was, I knew Pitch had done it, but I never saw any sign of him. He was a ghost. That’s why I sent the Leaf Riders to meet Dan that week. I thought you might try and do something if you thought I was in trouble.”

“Fuck oath we would have,” Bunny muttered, waving a pestle in his direction as he threw herbs and dashes of liquid into a mortar.

Jack sniffed and drew a shuddering breath. “Whenever I fell asleep after that, I would wake up worse than before. I don’t know how he did it, but it kept escalating. So I snapped. I went back to meet him to try and end this thing. He took one look at me and…” he gestured to the re-dressed gash in his side. “That’s why I came back to the North Pole. I needed to try and patch myself up before I went back again. That’s why you saw blood on my hands.”

Bunny was the only one of the Guardians who wasn’t petrified out of sheer horror. He ground the pestle and mortar together, hacking at the ingredients till they were mush. That repetitive act of catharsis seemed to be all that was holding him together.

“I’m really sorry,” Jack croaked, his tears falling freely now. “I—I should have told you straight away, but part of me thought I could do it. I wanted to do it. To make up for the last time I screwed up. But…”

“Oh, Jack.” Tooth placed her folded blanket aside and flew over to where he was seated on the edge of his bed. She hugged him again. Gently this time.

“Hey, I’m not done here,” Bunny protested, gesturing with the mortar now full of a pungent-smelling ointment.

“Give it a break for a second, you’ll live,” Tooth snapped.

“Me? What about him?!”

“Jack, we are sorry too,” said North. “We are sorry you did not feel like you could reach out to us.” Sandy nodded in agreement from his place at the window seat.

“It’s not your fault,” Jack sniffed. “I’m just used to being on my own I guess.”

“And you were scared that now you finally had us, you would lose us again,” Tooth murmured. With his cheek against her shoulder, Jack’s trembling lips formed a sad smile.

“Yeah. I was scared.”

The armchair North occupied creaked as he sat back, a thoughtful frown etched on his face. He scratched his bearded chin, humming in a low drone that caused Bunny to set the mortar down on the bedside table with a bang.

“You wanna knock it off?”

_“Stravinsky._ You said you saw Pitch when we couldn’t,” said North, ignoring the incensed Bunny and turning to Sandy. “Show us what you saw.”

Without rising, Sandy conjured a mass of billowing sand clouds that rolled and writhed. Though the Guardians expected something more substantial to form from the dreamsand, it remained shapeless and foreboding. The only hint of something more tangible lay in the eye of the storm—the nucleus.

“Wait, that’s all?” Jack asked.

Sandy then formed a series of ears and speech bubbles, and a barrage of aggressive, frenzied sound waves.

“But you could hear him,” Tooth inferred, still comforting Jack as he dried his eyes with the back of his hand. Sandy nodded.

“And Jack, when you saw Pitch, you saw him as you knew him, da?” North asked.

Jack thought back to his encounter and recalled Pitch’s every unsettling detail; his lithe, gaunt figure; spectral grey skin; hair blacker than the souls of the damned; and gleaming eyes that hypnotized and chilled all at once… “Yes. He looked exactly the same.”

“Shostakovich…” North rose from his chair and paced around the room.

“What’s wrong?” asked Jack.

“He must have been weakened by defeat. Beyond repair. He cannot take his true form. That is why Sandy could only see the black cloud—that is why we could not see him at all.”

Jack retracted himself from Tooth’s comforting arms, left their softness, their warmth to lean forward and rest his elbows on his knees with a wince. “Pitch said he didn’t want you to see him though.”

Bunny gave a bark of humourless laughter. He folded his arms and leaned against one of the bedhead posts. “Yeah, a show-pony like him would be absolutely spewing if any of us got a squiz of him in a state like that. He must have taken a hit after the nightmares got him—bad enough to almost to kill him.”

“Almost,” said Tooth, “but not quite. Our immortality, as you have probably already figured out, has its perks. But it’s conditional. When spirits are injured beyond recovery, they can die, just like mortals, but we differ in that we can’t leave unfinished work behind. There must be a replacement because Pitch said it himself; there will always be fear. Just as there will always be memories and dreams. And fun. He could be hanging on to this world by a thread, but if there’s no one to take his place as its facilitator, he can’t truly die. What Sandy saw is closest to how he exists now, and he’ll be doomed to stay that way until another is fit enough to succeed him. And that might not be for hundreds of years. Maybe thousands. Until then he’s on borrowed time. He’s just…”

“Dust in the wind,” Jack finished. The knot in his stomach tightened as his memories looped over themselves in tangles, remembering the time before the Guardians had made him one of their own. He knew all too well the curse of invisibility, of not being believed in. But this was different. For Pitch, it wouldn’t just be the human world where he existed as a ghost, but the spiriting world as well. Jack could never wish such a lonely existence upon anyone. Not even his worst enemy. “But that doesn’t really explain why I could see him as he used to be.”

“It was what he wanted,” said North. “It was like smoke in the mirror. Like a…a…”

“A glamour,” Tooth supplied.

“Da, a glamour! One that would have taken much energy to maintain. He maybe only had enough power to convince you alone.”

“Pump the breaks for a second.” Bunny ceased leaning against the bedpost and gestured to Sandy. “You also said that Pitch was targeting you at first, not Frostbite.” Sandy made air quotations in reply, which were taken to mean _allegedly._ “Okay. What if the reason you saw different incarnations was because of how long Pitch spent trying to make you see him?”

“You think the longer they were exposed, the more complex a form he assumed?” queried Tooth.

“Maybe.” Bunny shrugged. “I dunno. That’s just my two cents.”

“I don’t think so.”

Bunny rose a bow at her and raised his palms. “Alrighty then, don’t mind me. I’ll just shut my gob.”

“No, I’m not saying you’re wrong,” Tooth amended, “I just mean that that can’t be all. There has to be…” she drew a soft gasp. “Oh, I get it now. Jack, you said you knew you were going to find Pitch, didn’t you?”

Jack shot her a side-long glance of trepidation. “I mean, I didn’t know. I just had this gut feeling. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“That’s what I mean. Everything that Pitch has done to you—the lying, the violence, the turning up just when you think he will—you predicted all of it based on what you know of him. The way he lured you away from us, even the attack on Sandy; it’s all too familiar. Pitch was a soldier—a general. He knows how to strategize warfare, and he would never try the same tactics twice.”

Jack felt a cold bead of sweat run down his neck. What Tooth said was right; Pitch was cunning. If he’d had a plan, it would not have taken such an obvious path.

“What are you saying, Toothie?” asked North.

“Pitch was playing off your fears, Jack. Feeding into them and exacerbating them until they no longer existed inside your head alone. Would I be right in assuming you’re more than a little haunted by what happened last Easter?”

“Oh, gods,” Jack rasped, “it really was my fault, wasn’t it? It wasn’t Pitch who nearly killed Sandy this time, it was me.”

Sandy looked up, eyes widened, and he shook his head while frantically waving his hands at Jack.

“No! Jack—Jack listen to me,” Tooth said, taking his face in both her hands so his eyes were fixed on her. “This was not your fault. Pitch manipulated you into bringing these fears to fruition because it was the only way he knew how to hurt you. He has no power like he used to. He has no true body. All he can do is manifest as your worst fears and make them a reality. By feeding into your fears, you made him stronger. Strong enough that you believed all his illusions and lies. Your worst fear was having to relive the events of last Easter. So that’s what he made you do.”

The air was too thin. Though he tried, Jack felt he couldn’t draw enough of it into his lungs. Not while the terror this revelation instilled in him thrilled through his veins. For, if what Tooth said was true, how could he trust himself ever again? How could he be sure the world itself wasn’t a mirage designed to trick him into falling through the looking glass?

“It happened though—right?” he asked. “Everything still happened. It wasn’t just all inside my head.”

From across the room, North shook his head. “There is no way your trials were imaginary.”

“You’ve been to hell and back, Frostbite. And in a month from now, you’ll have the scars to prove it,” Bunny agreed.

“Most of all, your suffering was—and still is—real,” said Tooth. “And we will do whatever we can to make it bearable.”

“We’re with you, mate,” said Bunny, holding his gaze. “Now and always.”

Jack looked around the room, to each warm face that regarded him with the most kindness and compassion he had known for the longest time. Their gazes melted away the cold and bitter loneliness of the past. And to his surprise, his chest bloomed with a welcoming warmth he hadn’t felt in over 300 years. It was different this time, as it should have been. But despite the dysfunction, and uncertainty, and distrust that he would work without tire to overcome, the essence of that warmth remained.

Here was his family.

Here, Jack was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! To those who have been following this story, I hope this is the ending you've been anticipating. This is the first multi-chapter fic I've ever actually finished. It's nice to be done if a little strange to think that I'll probably leave the story here, untouched for the rest of eternity (or until the archive is destroyed, whichever comes first). That being said, if there are any typos please let me know. Also, a friend of mine did some gorgeous artwork for this story. I'll be trying to figure out how to embed it in the next 24-48 hours or so, so hang tight.
> 
> This is the end of the story but hardly the end of me. If you liked _In the Eye of the Beholder,_ keep in mind I have a few other WIPs that might take your fancy.
> 
> Thanks for stopping by and remember: authors love hearing from their readers!
> 
> Papers x
> 
> _Artwork by the incredible Taylor Denna_
> 
> [Taylor Denna's DA Profile ](https://www.deviantart.com/taylor-denna)


End file.
